vogue is a cat lady

To land on your feet, fashion-wise, lose the heel.

It's fitting that although my blog name is inspired by Vogue magazine, the first time I'm featuring anything Vogue-related is when they decide to use cats as models.

The cat and the flat is a playful (and oh so fluffy!) Spring editorial featuring this season's name brand flats and their much cuter counterparts, da cats. The spread consists of 31 photos, one for every day of March. I feel a certain pride and contentment that Vogue is a cat lady.

I think my favorite part of the editorial are the details below each photo - such as the names of the cats, like Princess Monster Truck, Carmelo Anthony, Capone, and the little kitten named Pignoli. They also use all ordinary felines, many of them up for adoption! I'm sure these Vogue mittens have been snatched up already. Princess Monster Truck is already a celebrity, though, and spoiled rotten I'm sure. She's the grizzly one with the adorable underbite that makes her look like a cuddly troll.

Now shhhh and look at the kittens.

beautiful things

post: why we camp,

This has quite possibly been one of the darkest weeks of my life.

It's difficult because it's almost entirely internal. I can write about it and try to express it, but I place a mask on my face every single day as I go to work and interact with others. I focus on small things and make jokes to my friends and watch comedy shows and movies constantly. It's a very lonely feeling, a very personal struggle. I tend to cry on my way home from work and before I go to sleep. Those are the moments when I have time to myself to grieve. To be quite honest, I have been listening almost exclusively to Enya (a sure sign of brokenness) at work and hardly getting anything done. These days are very blurry and strange. I feel very tired. But I also know that life must go on and time is passing by whether I want it to or not. I realize I'm taking this very hard, and I must pull myself out of it somehow. 

Grief, prayer, acceptance, tribute, hope, love. 

Back in November I wrote a blog post called Stamps of Life. Something led me to reread that piece this morning, and I am now a puddle. Oh, my little November self, if only you knew. Thank goodness you didn't, because you were able to write something that your February self needed very, very badly. 

Here are some of my stamps of life. 

Beautiful moments, scenes of love, colorful pictures of memories that last and transform. 

Oh, Lord, you make beautiful things. Beautiful things out of the dust.

chapel hill

post: wanderlust wednesday

fall in virginia

bazille and camille by claude monet

parliament building in london, england

spring in virginia

ceiling details in florence, italy

smokey the cat

post: cypress gardens

epcot center, disney world

bike in paris, france

blowing rock, north carolina

the cayman islands

post: to be a writer

animal kingdom, disney world

dalkey, ireland

kilkenny, ireland

wanderlust wednesday

I've got London on my mind.

A cold day in London is lazy, clouds overhead and people meandering.
You leave your flat with coat and scarf, your boots clapping on the pavement. Should you walk or take the tube? You could sit on benches all throughout the city just to listen to Londoners talk. Maybe the queen is home, whom they call "mother". Maybe a local pub can warm that latent chill in your fingertips from the light morning snow. A foamy cappuccino will do; that's the ticket.
The breeze is damp but your coat is thick, everything smells like rain in the most pleasant way. It's a Saturday, so you stumble on a hidden collection of market tents, the smell of warm bread and curry drifting out to you. You peruse the cheese tables and observe the crowds, everyone is jovial because food unites us.
The cold may banish a number of tourists, but it certainly doesn't deter the brave street performers or the die-hard wanderers. The streets are still full of people, locals and tourists alike. The silent buildings observe the sullen city streets, ancient and dull in the muted skylight. The old and the new sit side by side, chipped brick and stone to glass skyscraper.
The little bit of sun begins to vanish altogether, the evening peaks through and the chill deepens. Time for fish and chips and warm glow, time to unravel your layers and let your fingertips out to grasp the glass of cider.
The night lights begin to flicker on to illuminate your way, Big Ben shimmering green along the rim of his hat.

Sweet London town.

(see all london posts)
(see all wanderlust wednesday posts)